


geiszler, n, phd x7

by OnyxSphinx



Series: newmann one-shots [125]
Category: Pacific Rim (Movies)
Genre: Everything is Beautiful and Nothing Hurts, Fluff, M/M, Not Pacific Rim: Uprising (2018) Compliant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-21
Updated: 2019-12-21
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:53:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21889213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OnyxSphinx/pseuds/OnyxSphinx
Summary: Newt gets his seventh PhD surrounded by the family he loves.
Relationships: Newton Geiszler/Hermann Gottlieb
Series: newmann one-shots [125]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1286762
Kudos: 42





	geiszler, n, phd x7

**Author's Note:**

> [drsarah1281](https://drsarah1281.tumblr.com/) asked: "So in honor of the fact I graduated today, could you please write Hermann being there with Jacob and Illia when Newt gets his seventh PhD? Let me know if this goes through!

Newt nearly doesn’t go; the truth of it is that he’s flat-out exhausted from, like, _everything;_ it’s a bit taxing to win a war by Drifting with aliens _twice_ and _then_ cram the work necessary for a(nother) doctorate into like, half the time he really _should_ have taken to do it.

So really, that’s understandable, in his opinion.

And then he mentions it offhand to his dad and Illia over the phone and—

Well, they get _just_ a little excited about it.

“I already _have_ six, dad,” Newt points out, “seriously, you’ve already been to like, four of my ceremonies, you’ve _gotta_ be kinda bored of ‘em by now. I mean, _I_ am.”

Jacob shakes his head, the motion slowed and pixelated by the _godawful_ connection, and says, “Absolutely not. We’re going—right Illia?”

The other starts; blinking. “Uh—yeah,” he says, “we’re…” he gives Newt a panicked look, and Newt mouths _PhD_. “Going to come see your ceremony,” he finishes.

Newt resists the urge to facepalm. “Thanks, Illia,” he says, and sighs deeply. “Yeah, yeah, okay, fine. I mean, I haven’t seen you guys in ages, so like…what’s the harm?”

Jacob grins at him. “That’s the spirit, kiddo,” he says. “Oh—and make sure Hermann comes, alright? I want to see the man my son is—”

“ _Dad,_ ” Newt yelps, heat rushing to his cheeks, “okay I love you I’ll email you _bye!_ ”

* * *

“I cannot _believe_ it,” Hermann says.

“You helped me not go insane while figuring out academic regalia all over again after having not used the knowledge in like, thirteen years,” Newt points out, moving to pull out a cup for Hermann as the other switches off the stove, “you _literally_ were the first person I told about having passed my defence.”

“Seven doctorates,” Hermann says, and then shakes his head. “ _Seven._ ”

“Hepta-doctor,” Newt says with a grin. “If you wanna be math-y about it.”

Hermann sighs deeply. “Good lord. Why on Earth did I ever agree to marry you.”

“'Cause you love me,” Newt shoots back. “Now, _like I was saying,_ I want you to hood me, dude.”

“That’s…that’s not…”

“Please?”

Hermann sighs. “Oh, alright. Fine. Yes. Of course I will, Newton.”

Newt grins. “Great,” he says, and reaches to take Hermann’s hand in his. “Dude, I love you so much.”

A quiet smile creeps across the other’s face. “And I love you, Newton,” he returns. “Now please stop trying to steal my biscuits.”

“ _Biscuits,_ ” Newt says, “they’re fucking _cookies,_ you bastard, and I deserve to have some.”

* * *

“Photos,” Jacob says, the instant Newt and Hermann get down off of the podium.

“You have photos from my six other ones!” Newt laughs, arm thrown around Hermann’s waist, “dad, c'mon, do you _really_ need more photos?”

“Yep,” Jacob says, straight-faced, and then breaks into a grin. “Let an old man live, Newt, this is an important moment! Look, Illia is wearing formal clothing! We gotta document this!”

“I could’ve worn a hoodie and jeans,” Illia grumbles, and Jacob hits his shoulder. “Ow! Fine, fine. Listen to your dad, Newt, I didn’t get all dressed up just to have you weasel your way out of photos with your family.”

“Blackmail,” Newt says, but he’s grinning, and Hermann’s arm is around him and _he’s_ grinning too and Newt’s family is all here, together, with him for—the first time in years and yeah, it’s kind of stupid and he’s probably a bit pretentious for getting seven doctorates but damn if he isn’t tearing up.

“Are you alright?” Hermann murmurs, softly, as Jacob goes off to find someone to get a photo of them, dragging Illia with him.

Newt sniffs. “Y—yeah, I’m fine,” he replies. “Just, uh, really happy, you know?”

“I do,” Hermann nods. “I can _feel_ it.”

Newt laughs. “Right, Drift bleed,” he says, but it’s fond. “Hey—”

“Alright, Newt, Hermann, stand closer,” Jacob calls, “Illia, stand next to Hermann—”

“If they stand any closer, they’re going to fuse together,” Illia says drily, but moves to stand next to Hermann.

Jacob passes the phone to the poor newly-minted doctor he’s grabbed and moves to stand by Newt. “Everyone say ‘cheese’!” he says. “Illia, that means you too.”

“I _am_ smiling,” Illia shoots back, but obliges.

Finally, Jacob’s satisfied with the photos. “Thank god,” Newt groans, tugging the cap off. “I’m so fucking hungry I could eat a horse.”

“That’s a terrible idea,” Hermann says. “I think there’s an iHop in driving distance.”

“…your driving distance or mine?”

“I’m driving, so mine,” Hermann points out. “And don’t complain, I’m paying—I’m not exactly nice and full either.”

“Aww, sweet,” Newt says, and grins wickedly.

Hermann’s expression goes flat. “Oh dear,” he says. “There’s no backing out of this now, is there?”

“Nope, no take-backsies,” Newt says, and links his fingers with Hermann’s. “It’s gonna be _fun._ ”

* * *

“Oh man, I love pancakes,” Newt sighs, and spears one of the peach slices, shoving the entire thing into his mouth.

Hermann wrinkles his nose; readjusts his grip on his knife and continues cutting his veggie omelette. “You’re horrifying,” he says, “and all of that sugar is going to make it hard for you to sleep tonight.”

Newt shrugs. “Meh,” he says. “Pass the maple syrup, please, dad.”

“I see your tastes haven’t changed, kid,” Jacob says, and acquiesces; passes him a few packs of sugar as well, which Newt happily stirs into his coffee as Hermann looks on, horrified.

“Nope,” Newt says, popping the p, “also, Herms, I’m going to order the pumpkin-spice hot-chocolate and there’s nothing you can do to stop me.”

“Good lord,” Hermann murmurs, and shoots Jacob and Illia a pleading look.

“Nothing you can do, Gottlieb,” Illia says, “you’re just going to have to get used to it.”

Hermann sighs. “Lovely,” he says, and takes a drag of his water, the ice clinking against the glass.

“You know me, babe,” Newt says, patting his arm. “Seven doctorates and no common sense.”

“Shut up,” Hermann groans.

**Author's Note:**

> you can find me at [autisticharrow](https://autisticharrow.tumblr.com/) on tumblr


End file.
